


Stubborn

by rbmk999



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Suicide, Some angst, another disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rbmk999/pseuds/rbmk999
Summary: It's December of 1988, and they are being sent to Spitak, to deal with another unspeakable disaster, like they haven't seen enough of this shit already in Chernobyl. And sometimes it feels like Legasov is here with them too.





	Stubborn

**Author's Note:**

> Real Boris Shcherbina didn't receive ANY awards for his role in Chernobyl clean-up. Despite him suffering from radiation sickness he was sent to deal with aftermath of Spitak earthquake in December 1988 and spent a month there in terrible conditions, his health deteriorating even faster. Wasn't awarded for this either. It's so unbelievably infuriating I had to write something about it.  
> This work, of course, is about fictional Boris Shcherbina from HBO Chernobyl, but I think you get the point.

You could always hear Boris Shcherbina from afar. Barking orders, shouting on the phone, screaming things into existence. Getting shit done on a sheer stubbornness and willpower.

But these days you first hear his cough. His bloody cough, literally.

...It's December of 1988, and they are being sent to Spitak, to deal with another unspeakable disaster, like they haven't seen enough of this shit already in Chernobyl. This one though is different in every possible way. For starters, there's no radiation, and nothing stops Ryzhkov and Gorbachev himself from showing up in Armenia for press tours, pretending that they care. Nothing stops from calling for foreign assistance: this disaster, for a change, is not man-made, there's no shame in this one. And yet, General Tarakanov sees so many familiar faces here — people from Chernobyl team thrown into a fire yet again, spearheaded, yet again, by Deputy Chairman Shcherbina.

You can't help but wonder why did Gorbachev send him there. Sure, he and many other people from Chernobyl team have unique expertise in dealing with aftermath of the disaster, organizing logistics, temporary shelters, transportation, machinery... But Shcherbina is sick, barely functioning, and Spitak is nothing like Chernobyl. The danger of Chernobyl was invisible, slow, tricky. If anything, Spitak is graphic. Tens of thousands of dead bodies, many of them beyond recognition. Hundreds of thousands wounded. Ruined cities and villages, disrupted infrastructure. That's probably what most of Ukraine would have looked like if the rest three of Chernobyl's reactors had exploded, minus the radiation. Chernobyl was fear and dread. Spitak is pain and grief. And yet, here they are.

Here they are, fighting the impossible odds of this disaster along with the radiation sickness from the previous one. Why send people who barely survived one nightmare, straight into another? "To keep up occupied, — jokes Shcherbina one of these days. — While we're busy shoveling away another shitshow, we're not a threat. Don't want someone to talk too much? Throw them under the bus, then sweep what's left under the rug, and all is well in..." — the cough eats up the rest of what he wanted to say. He's bitter these days. General Tarakanov knows why: late Professor Legasov was his friend too.

...Sometimes it feels like Legasov is here with them too. On good days Shcherbina would look proudly at the fruits of their labor and say something like "Valera would have liked it", and smile ruefully. On bad days he would read some report and jump from his chair with agitated "I should tell this to Valera!", and freeze, and frown, and whisper "Oh shit", and sit back.

And sometimes, when General and Deputy Chairman would work late in their mobile command center, the trailer similar to one they used in Chernobyl, even with the same ugly green wallpaper, Shcherbina would call Tarakanov by Legasov's name without noticing it. Something simple, mundane, like "Valera, pass me that pen" or "Valera, close the fucking door, it's freezing".

One day he finally catches it. "Oh shit, Kolya, did I just call you 'Valera'? Sorry, old habit I guess". — "Did you? I wasn't paying attention". He was, of course, but there's no need to embarrass Boris. And of course Boris didn't buy it: "Have I done it before?" — "Once or twice, — shrugs Tarakanov, then adds: — I miss him too".

...It's December, and it's cold even in Armenian climate, and Shcherbina with his damaged immune system catches cold almost immediately. As if his bloody cough was not enough. He could return to Moscow but he stays. "There's shit here to be done first, hospitals can wait". But he's getting worse, and at some point, during yet another round of vodka with salo and garlic (a traditional folks medicine to aid a pharmaceutical one), they finally address the elephant in the room.

"In days like these I almost envy Valera, — manages to say Boris in between of cough marathon. — Just end everything and be done with it, — another round of cough, another round of vodka. — Would be a fucking bliss".

Tarakanov knows Shcherbina well enough not to try cheering him up. No need. Yet he asks: "Why didn't you?" — mostly just to keep up the conversation. He knows the answer already. Stubbornness.

"I still have stuff to do, - he pauses. — Valera had stuff to do too, lots of it, but... But for him it was the only way to do it. To finally get it done".

"There are rumors, you know, — says Tarakanov cautiously. — About his death..."

"Ah, come on, — Boris waves the hand carelessly. — There's no bugs here, no state secrets to hide for a change".

Another round of cough. General fills Shcherbina's glass with warm tea from plaid colored thermos. Not that it helps.

"They say, KGB killed him and made it look like suicide, yes, I've heard that one. — Boris frowns. — It's possible, yes. He knew a lot, and he had nothing to lose. But..."

Another cough, another blood-stained handkerchief in trembling fingers. He's old, he's sick, he's tired.

"But that would mean that KGB won. And I... — another cough. — I'd like to think that Valera won. And we all won along with him".

General nods. He doesn't completely agree with this, but he likes the sentiment.

This time Shcherbina can't stop coughing for a while, and Tarakanov calls for medic.

"You really should return to Moscow, Boris".

"Not yet".

He's old, he's sick, he's tired.

But more than that, he's stubborn.

  
([artwork source](https://ann-arde.tumblr.com/post/186049386322/another-cough-another-blood-stained-handkerchief))


End file.
